


Sabotage

by afictionado



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afictionado/pseuds/afictionado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been spending the last few evenings here for some odd reason -- it had begun when he'd gone to find her after the disaster with Kimberly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sabotage

*****

"D'you bring those crisps I asked you to?" she bellows from the kitchen, and Roy almost chokes on the last sip of his Cuke.

"Yes, Jen! After you reminded me fifteen times, _yes_ I remembered to bring the crisps." Though this leaves Roy looking frantically around her living room, hoping to find a magical bag of crisps just appearing out of thin air.

"Well it's the least you could do," she tells him, coming back to the living room with a glass of wine for herself, "Since you've been taking up here the last few evenings. Well?" She stops just near the couch -- some fluffy number with a godawful floral pattern that hurts Roy's eyes every time he sits down there -- and looks around. "Where are they?"

"I, ehm..." He continues to look around, wondering if there's such a thing as a snack fairy, and then looks up at Jen with an innocent smile. "I ate them."

Her glare lets him know she doesn't buy that load of bollocks, but she says nothing, setting her wine glass on the coffee table instead. "Typical," she spits under her breath, and heads for the stack of DVDs she's pulled out. He's been spending the last few evenings here for some odd reason -- it had begun when he'd gone to find her after the disaster with Kimberly. He'd been upset and, technically it _had_ been Jen's fault that he couldn't stop picturing old ladies and the nerds from the photo shoot -- those calendars had been her idea, after all. And, well, when someone ruins a perfectly good evening with a gorgeous woman, it's important that they're told such in person. But Jen had just laughed at him and told him he was interrupting her movie night. He'd invited himself in and stayed to finish the movie. 

The next night, he'd turned up simply because she mentioned being interested in seeing a movie he'd brought up. So, he invited himself over, explaining his way inside by holding up the DVD case. Tonight, he's not sure what he's doing here, exactly. She had just mentioned she'd be watching more movies, and had invited him to join her only if he brought her a specific brand of crisps. Frankly, he'd been so confused by the invitation that he'd completely forgotten what he was supposed to pick up. 

"I'll bring them to you in the morning," he finds himself telling her, and she chortles.

"A-ha, so you _hadn't_ actually brought them! Thought not." She puts the DVD in and grabs one of the remotes.

Roy tilts his head, unable to help watching as she bends to pick up the remote from the lower shelf of her entertainment unit. Jen annoys the piss out of him most days, sure, but she's got a nice arse on her. He carefully schools his features by the time she straightens up and pins him with a look, and casually stretches his arms out across the back of the couch, whistling and looking around her living room as if she hadn't just caught him eying her. 

"So you swing by my place with _no_ French onion crisps like I'd asked for, _and_ you stare at my ass. Cheeky bastard." The severity in her tone conflicts with the slight smirk he spots threatening her lips as she heads for the couch.

"Jen, you should know by now what a prat I am."

"Somehow, I keep forgetting," she sighs, and flops down beside him. 

Her hair tickles his arm as she sits back. She makes a face at his arm being where her head is to rest, though she makes no attempt to slide over, or to ask him to move. Roy ponders on that as the main titles of the DVD come up. 

He sees the title and groans. "Not a _Hugh Grant_ movie, Jen, what is this shit?"

"Shit?" She gives him a look. "S'not shit! It's an excellent movie. And anyway, nobody's forcing you to stay put. You're free to leave at any time."

Roy glares at her but remains where he is, scowling at the screen as she begins to play the movie. It's insufferable right from the first minute. Another Hugh Grant vehicle in which Hugh Grant acts like a stuttering handsome fool and some silly woman falls in love with him. Several times, he groans silently to himself and tips his head back against the couch, scrubbing one hand over his face. He'd do both hands, but Jen's head is somewhat pinning his arm in place, still draped across the back of the couch and... oddly, he doesn't have the heart to move it.

At one point during the movie, he feels her pressing against him, and he turns to find her bringing her legs up beside her on the couch, pulling off her ridiculously high-heeled shoes and dropping them onto the floor one by one. Curiously, when she's done, she remains weighted against him, legs folded up beside her. This would be the point where it would be wise of him to get up for another Cuke -- it's what he'd do with any other girl, anyway, needing a moment to clear his head and wonder what's going on. He's known Jen for so bloody long now, almost four years and a great deal longer than he's known most other women in his life he's not related to. So instead, Roy stays put, occasionally giving her confused glimpses in his periphery but she doesn't notice, too focused on the movie.

Mid-way through the movie, unable to figure out why she's leaning against him or why he's staying through this damned horrible movie, Roy feels the need to remind her, "You know I only showed up here the other night because you ruined my night with Kimberly."

She nods against him, eyes still on the screen. "Yes, so you've said. And just as I reminded you, I had nothing to do with your failure with Kimberly."

Roy's jaw drops indignantly and he leans away from her a bit, inciting her to press a hand into his chest to prop herself up; with the motion of the damned fluffy couch, his arm drops of its own volition across her back. He's too focused on what she's just said. "What? You had _everything_ to do with it! 'Don't do the nudie calendar, Roy! It's sexist, Roy! Photograph grans and ugly nerds instead, Roy!' _All_ your fault!"

"Yeah, well, then we're even!" She holds up a finger. " _Less_ than even if we're being perfectly honest, 'cos let's not forget that you've ruined _three_ of _my_ relationships."

"Three?"

"Yes!" Her hand pushes into his chest a little harder as she sits back a little further, sitting on her heels now. "First you spectacularly destroyed my date with Philip--"

"You mean the gay man?" Roy chuckles, then shakes his head. "If anything, Jen, I spared you the traumatic experience of having a boyfriend tell you he's gay."

"Fine, fine, so we'll toss out that one. But then there was Peter--"

"Who?" He furrows his brows.

"Peter File."

"Oh, right! Peter File." He can't help but giggle a little at the name.

"Stop that!" She whacks his arm. "He was a perfectly nice, perfectly normal man, until you had to go and ruin it for me!"

He tilts his head at her. "Come now, Jen. Are you telling me that you would have lasted in a relationship where you didn't know the bloke's second name?"

"I would have learned it eventually--"

"So you would have ended it yourself anyway! Why blame me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. But Michael was _absolutely_ your fault."

"The magician?" He almost giggles once more, but her scathing look helps him suppress the urge. He clears his throat and presses his lips together to keep from smiling. He nods. "Right. The magician. That was my fault, yes. So. We _are_ even."

Jen just glares, gives him a little shove before roughly settling against him again, jabbing him in the ribs in the process. Roy's head tips back on a silent 'ow!' and yet he still remains where he is, arm having fallen around Jen's shoulders now as she rests against him. She resumes the movie, having paused it during their squabble, and Roy is once again subjected to Hugh Grant's 'charmingly-befuddled' antics.

Another ten minutes in and Jen huffs against him, drawing his attention. "How's my soldier?" he sing-songs softly, tentatively.

"Why do we keep doing this, Roy?"

"What?" He's not certain if she's referring to the movies, the squabbling, or something else entirely. Best to keep his mouth shut or else his foot will find its way inside.

She sits up again and meets his eyes, brows wrinkling. "Wrecking things for each other. We like one another, yeah?"

Roy shifts a little, suddenly uncomfortable. As he notices his arm is still across Jen's shoulders, he places it across the back of the couch. "We're... fine with one another, sure."

"We're work mates, yes? Quite possibly... friends?"

"Sure."

"So then why do we do this to one another? Friends are supposed to want one another to be happy."

He shrugs. "I don't know, Jen." The way she's looking at him is making him uncomfortable. This time, his urge to flee actually gets him up off the couch. "You know, I should probably go."

"Roy..."

"I've taken up a few too many of your evenings here, Jen, and... and I hate Hugh Grant, so. Really pointless for me to stay, wouldn't you say?"

Jen just watches him as he heads for the door, promising he'll have her beloved snack for her in the morning.

 

*****

Roy forgets about the crisps yet again, but he's fairly certain it's Jen's fault. He'd slept horribly the night before, all because he couldn't seem to stop thinking about what she'd said to him -- what she'd asked him. What had she expected him to say? Did she think he was really smart enough to understand why they sabotaged each other almost constantly? Or, well... he supposes the sabotage is more on his side than hers. She's been (mostly) perfectly nice to him. She has her moments where she makes purposeful remarks about something in his life, but he knows he's done far worse damage. 

They barely speak to one another all day, and it's the damndest thing he's ever experienced. It's quite awkward, really. So much so that even Moss seems to pick up on it. "Have you and Jen had intercourse, Roy?" he asks rather bluntly while they each eat lunch at their desks after Jen's gone out. 

Roy almost chokes on the piece of fried chicken he'd been eating straight from the bucket. "What?"

"I've looked it up on Google, you see. Apparently when there's this much tension between co-workers, chances are they've had a... what the site calls a 'roll in the hay.'"

Roy shakes his head. "No."

Moss consults the aforementioned web page again and looks up again. "'Frolicking between the sheets?'"

"No."

"A 'romp in the sack?'"

"No, Moss!" he shouts. "There's been no romping, no frolicking, and no rolling between Jen and I!"

"Well then what on Earth is going on here today? I've been so tense I can't wee!" Making a face, Moss tells him a bit quieter, "I really need to wee, Roy."

"So... go!" He waves toward the door. "Go take a piss then! Jen and I are fine."

Moss continues his questioning when he returns from the bathroom, but luckily that's when Roy gets a call -- one of the women on fourth insists that her computer's plugged in, but won't turn on, though he knows better. Still, it gives him an excuse to get away from the questioning. He bumps into Jen on the way up, rather literally, with both of them rattling off somewhat nervous strings of apologies at one another before continuing on their respective paths.

When the day ends, things are no less tense -- he still doesn't know what he's supposed to say to Jen, or what sort of answer she's looking for. Maybe he sabotages her relationships because he knows the men she chooses are below her. Yes, that could very well be it. Perhaps he should tell her. 

_Or_... perhaps he unintentionally ruins things for her because he's grown to be somewhat protective of her, and doesn't wish to see her get hurt. Yes, that's also quite plausible. He'll tell Jen both of these things, and she'll have her answer and then things can stop being so bloody awkward between them, and Moss will be able to pee of his own volition. 

It doesn't explain the continuing trips to her flat, though, or how downright cozy they seemed to get last night before everything went spectacularly to hell. Doesn't explain either why he felt the need to go directly to Jen after the mess with Kimberly, when certainly a phone call or angry text message would have gotten his point across just as well. It also doesn't even begin to cover why he'd enjoyed dancing with her at the thank-you party, as well as why he was so disappointed when he awoke the next morning to find out he _hadn't_ gone home with Jen (after the horror of who he _did_ take home wore off of course). 

Jen leaves for the night before he can talk to her, so Roy's got no choice but to wait until morning. Moss invites him over for video games but he declines. Moss once again assumes it's about sexual matters with Jen, but Roy manages to convince him that there's nothing going on. He heads for the Tube, passing a market along the way and spotting a sign in the window, advertising Jen's crisps. He heads inside without thinking and picks up the biggest bag on the shelf. His destination after his purchase is pure instinct, then.

When Jen opens the door and tilts her head at him curiously, he holds up the bag and attempts a smile. She gives him a look, rolling her eyes, but allows him entrance anyway, directing him toward the kitchen. He sets the bag of crisps on the counter and turns to face her, leaning back against the hard surface. She steps right up to him and Roy sighs, wondering where to begin. Maybe he'll start with the whole protectiveness thing. "Look, Jen, about what you asked me about yester--"

"Do you fancy me, Roy?" she asks, taking a couple more steps toward him, and Roy wonders why he suddenly feels cornered.

Then he looks behind himself, realizing he's standing at the apex of her breakfast bar and sink. He is, quite literally, cornered. "Jen, listen--"

"Just answer me." She's not angry, she's not glaring at him, and her voice hasn't gotten all shrill and shrew-like as it normally does when she demands answers. She just looks at him, searches his eyes, and Roy thinks maybe this would be easier if she was yelling shrilly at him. 

Before he can even begin to think of how to answer her, Jen's reached him in two more steps and stretches up on her toes, kissing him square on the lips. It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up, but when it does, the response is knee-jerk. Yes, he truly does fancy Jen. His heartbeat's gone berserk and his lips are tingling. If that's not a sign of him fancying her, he's not certain what is. He thinks perhaps he should tell her, but... he senses she can tell just in the way he grabs for her waist and gathers her close. 

His arms twine around her and her hands settle on his arms as her lips open beneath his. Then, they're just kissing like mad. His fingers are in her hair and he's turning her around so it's _her_ back against the counter. When he regains enough sense to pull back, their lips break soundly and he notices that Jen sways a bit on her toes. 

"I don't fancy you," she breathes against him. 

He leans back and eyes her strangely. "You don't?"

"No." She tilts her head then, smiling at him in the way he's seen her smile at Philip the gay man, and Peter File, and even Michael the Magnificent. "But then again, this is what I do, Roy -- I lie."

He smiles.

"I lie, and I lie, and I lie."

Roy chuckles at that, a bit out of breath still from their kissing. "Well... good."

"Would you like to stay? I could... pop in another movie."

His nod is immediate and borderline emphatic. "Yes, I could stay. Won't be another Hugh Grant movie, will it?"

"No. To be perfectly honest with you, Roy, I don't care what it is."

He furrows his brows at her as he follows her to the living room. "No?"

She shakes her head in front of him, "No," and turns to give him a look over her shoulder. "I don't plan on watching much of it anyway."

Roy stops in his footsteps, brows raising a bit at her tone and the look on her face -- something coy and flirty that's _never_ been directed at him before. He's got no choice but to follow after her and settle onto the couch, waiting until she puts in the DVD and returns to him before he puts his arm around her. This time, there's no doubting why he's doing it or why she's not making him move as she leans in. "You won't wreck this one for me, will you?"

He chuckles, just a bit nervously as her lips are quite close. Yes, he really does fancy her quite a bit. Maybe for once, he'll fight the urge to sabotage. 

But he still tells her just before he kisses her, "I make no promises, Jen."

 

FIN


End file.
